


Protecting Our Own

by cazmalfoy



Series: Vampire Ianto [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:58:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Owen Harper was already rushed off his feet when an extraordinary patient was wheeled into his A&E and changed his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protecting Our Own

Owen Harper yawned widely and pressed his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the action. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a gold pocket watch and glanced at the time. It was past eleven in the evening and the end of his shift was nowhere in sight. He had been working for so long that he couldn’t even remember what time he had started; seven, maybe eight that morning?

“Shouldn’t you have gone home hours ago?” a familiar voice asked, startling him and breaking him from his thoughts.

He shook his head, trying to push thoughts of sleep as far away from his mind as possible, before looking at the newcomer. Nurse Donna Noble was standing beside him, trying to convince her red hair to co-operate and let her tie it back. “I thought about leaving around six o’clock,” he confessed.

“Then why are you still here?” Donna pressed, reaching past Owen and picking up a clipboard. 

Owen grimaced and rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen some of the muscles in the base of his neck. “These patients aren’t going to see to themselves, Donna,” he reminded her.

Donna rolled her eyes. “Working yourself to death isn’t going to help anyone, Owen,” she stated. “You should get some sleep; even if you sleep on the couch in your office.”

If anyone else had spoken to Owen with the same tone Donna used on a regular basis, he knew that the nurse would have been escorted out of the hospital in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately for Owen, Donna had been there longer than even the Doctor had and she seemed to be able to get away with anything short of murder.

Before Owen could respond further, Donna turned on her heel and headed out of the small break room to continue with her job. Shaking his head in mild amusement at Donna’s almost mother hen like attitude, Owen headed to the counter and inspected the contents of the coffee pot. There wasn’t much left and he couldn’t bring himself to be bothered making more, so he replaced the pot with a sigh. He could get through the next… however many hours without coffee – he hoped.

Two hours later, the Accident and Emergency ward was still as full as it had been all day and Owen couldn’t see the end of his shift happening any time soon. 

With a sigh, he reached out, took the next clipboard from the waiting pile and glanced at the information, sighing heavily as he tried to read the details. He had barely read the patient’s name – Julia Rochfort – before the clipboard was snatched away from him.

He almost let out an expletive, before remembering that he was in the middle of the ward. “Hey,” he said instead, “I was reading that!”

“I know; what I can’t figure out is why?” a male voice stated from his left.

Owen looked up to see his boss, Doctor John Smith, standing beside him, stolen clipboard in hand. His free hand was on his hip and he was looking at Owen with an accusatory glare. “We’re swamped,” Owen stated, trying to work out how Smith hadn’t noticed their current number of patients.

Smith rolled his eyes and handed the clipboard to the nearest passing doctor. “Owen, you were here when I arrived this morning and you’re still here now. I want you to go home, get some rest, and I don’t want to see you again until lunch time tomorrow.”

Owen raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been here almost as long as I have and haven’t had a break; why should I?” he challenged. He knew he was likely to get in trouble for being insubordinate, but he was too tired to care.

Rather than getting angry like Owen had thought, the Doctor chuckled to himself and shook his head. “I had a nap in my office earlier,” he stated. “Now get out of here before I sack you and have security escort you out,” he threatened.

Owen contemplated arguing further, but the glint in the Doctor’s eyes told him that the threat was far from idle and it would be in the younger doctor’s best interests to do as he was told. Reluctantly he nodded his head. “Yes, Sir,” he murmured, unfastening his white coat and unclipping his ID badge from the pocket. 

The Doctor grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “That’s more like it,” he murmured. “Have a good night, Doctor Harper,” he added, brushing past Owen and moving towards a nurse who was waiting to consult with him.

The younger man sighed to himself and slowly made his way to the staff room to collect his jacket. He was loathe to admit it, but the Doctor and Donna were right; he really had been at work too long – he needed to get at least a little bit of rest.

He nodded to Donna on his way out and tried to ignore the smirk she threw him when she realised that he was doing what he’d been told for a change.

~

The clock on the wall of the hospital was just striking eleven thirty when Owen pushed the door open and entered the A&E. 

“I said I didn’t want to see you before lunch time,” the Doctor stated, looking up from the clipboard in his hands when he heard the door open. 

Owen barely resisted rolling his eyes as he approached the Doctor. “I’m only half an hour early,” he pointed out. “Don’t worry, I had over nine hours sleep last night; I’m well rested and ready to get back to work.”

The Doctor looked as though he was going to argue, before he sighed and shook his head. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, Harper,” he muttered, reaching out and plucking the top clipboard from the already mounting pile atop of the counter. “Since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful. But,” he cautioned, holding his hand up before Owen could move away, “I am personally escorting you home at six o’clock tonight whether you like it or not.”

This time, Owen didn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes as he tapped two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute. “Yes, Sir,” he murmured.

Less than hour later, Owen was on his fifth patient when the wail of a siren sounded from outside, moments before the doors burst open and several paramedics wheeled in a trolley.

Owen didn’t hesitate; he marched across the A&E to the paramedics, snatching a blank patient form from the desk as he passed. “What have we got?” he asked, sliding the clipboard under his arm.

“Unidentified male, early thirties, single gunshot wound to the chest,” the nearest paramedic, a young man Owen recognised as Matthew, informed him. His hand never moved from the bloody cloth pressed to the patient’s wound.

Owen nodded, reaching out and peeling back on of the patient’s eyelids as he studied his vital signs. “Take him to room seventeen,” he instructed, stepping back to allow them to follow his instructions.

He moved over to the desk, stealing a pen from one of the nurses so he could complete as much of the paperwork as he could; which wasn’t much. “I hate getting unnamed patients,” he muttered to himself.

“He didn’t have any identification?” the Doctor questioned, looking away from the nurse he was talking to when he heard Owen’s voice. Owen shook his head and the Doctor frowned deeply. “I want to see him before you treat him,” he stated. “I’m not having a repeat of what happened last month.”

Owen nodded his head, trying not to let his irritation show on his face. A nurse had been attacked by a drunk the previous month and, ever since, the Doctor had been extremely protective of his staff and refused to leave them alone with anyone who was potentially dangerous.

“He’s in room seventeen,” Owen stated, picking up his clipboard and leading the Doctor down the corridor to the correct room.

The Doctor pushed the door open and, barely over the threshold, he stopped in his tracks. Owen grunted in annoyance when he collided with the older medic’s back. “What the-?” He trailed off when the Doctor stalked across the room and began checking the patient’s vitals; checking his pupils and pressing his fingers to the pulse point in the unconscious man’s neck. 

“His name is James Smith,” the Doctor whispered, not turning away from the patient.

Owen’s narrowed with suspicion as he stared at his boss. “How do you know that?” he demanded, scribbling the name down on the clipboard along with the date – February 7th 1967.

The Doctor sighed and lowered his head. He was silent for a moment, before he answered, “He’s my son.”

Owen could feel his eyes widening in surprise at the Doctor’s words, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Your son?” he almost squeaked, not able to work out if he had been hearing things or not; the Doctor had never even hinted that he had a kid.

The Doctor nodded and moved closer to James’ head, murmuring something in a language Owen couldn’t understand, but he thought sounded similar to Welsh, before straightening up and taking a step away. “I can’t help you treat him,” the Doctor stated, throwing a look over his shoulder at James, before heading out of the room, and closing the door behind him.

Owen stared at the closed door for a moment, before looking back at the patient – his boss’ son, apparently. He started when he remembered that, while the paramedics had managed to stem the blood flow, Owen still needed to do his job and see to James’ wound.

~

The door to the break room opened and Owen looked up, wincing when he saw Donna standing in the doorway, looking at him with an irritated expression on her face.

“I know. I know,” Owen muttered, finishing off the last of his coffee and placing it in the sink; hoping that one of the nurses would clean it up later, or something. “I’m going in five minutes,” he added.

Donna’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she studied him. “Don’t think I won’t come find you if you haven’t clocked out soon,” she stated, waggling a threatening finger in his face.

Owen rolled his eyes. “You and the Doctor are both as bad as each other,” he growled, pushing away from the counter and brushing past Donna.

“Only because we both know how long you’d be here if we’d let you get away with it,” she retorted, smacking him on the back as he passed.

Owen hadn’t been lying to her when he’d said he was five minutes away from leaving; he had every intention in going home, having something to eat before going to bed ready for his early shift in the morning – which he was working, regardless of how much Donna and the Doctor argued with him.

He just wanted to check on the Doctor’s son before he clocked out.

After removing the bullet from James’ shoulder, Owen had stitched him up and arranged for him to be moved from the A&E to a private room on one of the wards on the floor above.

The door to James’ room was slightly open, and Owen slowed his pace when he realised that he could hear voices coming from inside. 

“I don’t care,” he could hear the Doctor say.

“Don’t look at me like that,” James snapped and Owen could clearly hear the irritation in his voice. “You can’t seriously be suggesting I got myself shot on purpose,” he added incredulously.

There was silent for a moment before the Doctor said, “You are faster and stronger than any attacker, Ianto.” Owen frowned deeply, trying to work out why the Doctor had lied about what his son’s name was. “You are more than capable of defending yourself.”

Owen heard an audible sigh from inside the room. “Look, I know I fucked up, but you’ve got to get me out of here,” James – Ianto – muttered; his voice was so quiet that Owen could barely hear it. He shuffled closer as he tried to eavesdrop further.

“I’ve already told you; I can’t do that,” the Doctor growled. “You got yourself into this mess, Ianto. I’m not jeopardising my career here to help you out.”

There was a pause, before Ianto spoke again and, this time, Owen could clearly hear a smirk in the other man’s voice. “You might not need to; there’s one of your precious members of staff outside right now.”

Owen started and contemplated turning on his heel and running off down the corridor. Before he could even move a muscle, the door opened to reveal the Doctor looking at him with an alarmed expression on his face.

“Doctor Harper,” he stated, his voice slightly strained. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Inside the room, Ianto was leaning against the window with his arms folded across the chest. Owen wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the other man was looking at him with an almost hungry look in his eyes; it chilled Owen to the core.

He blinked and forced himself to focus on the Doctor when he realised that the older man was still awaiting his answer. “I thought I would check on… James before I clocked off,” he explained, hoping that his stumble over the Doctor’s son’s name wasn’t too obvious.

The Doctor nodded his head. “Well, he’s feeling better,” he stated, waving his hand in the general direction of his son. “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of tonight,” he added.

Owen opened his mouth to argue that Ianto really shouldn’t be out of bed, but his eyes travelled past the Doctor to Ianto; there was something in the patient’s eyes that suggested Owen leave them alone as soon as possible.

Eventually he nodded his head and took a step back. “Have a good evening,” Owen murmured, turning on his heel and walking down the corridor as fast as he could; he really wanted to run, but knew that there would be something suspicious about that.

He didn’t look back until he reached the car park and felt the cold sting of the October air on his warm cheeks. “What the fuck was that?” he breathed to himself, resting his hands on his thighs and leaning forward, breathing deeply as he tried to clear his head.

Suddenly Owen straightened up, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as though someone was watching him. Turning slowly on his heel, he surveyed his surroundings; only to discover that, besides a fat man painting the fence, he was the only person in the car park.

Shaking the feeling off, he took off in a brisk march to where he had parked his car in the staff section of the car park. He only remembered that he didn’t have his keys when he reached the blue Honda. In his haste to leave he’d left them in his locker.

For a brief moment, he contemplating going back inside to get them, but the image his mind’s eye conjured of Ianto’s expression was enough to make him change his mind. Figuring that it wasn’t far between the hospital and his house, he set off walking home.

Barely twenty feet away from his front door he paused; he could feel someone’s eyes on his back again. An unexplainable feeling of terror flashed through him for a moment, before he turned and finally came face to face with his stalker.

He swallowed nervously when he saw the Doctor’s son standing behind him, watching him with a bemused expression on his face. 

“Mr Smith, you should still be in hospital,” Owen said, hoping that he could cover up his alarm by being as professional as possible.

Ianto smirked and took a step forward, letting his eyes run up and down the length of Owen’s body. “I know you heard our conversation earlier,” he purred, reaching a hand out and running his index finger down Owen’s cheek. “My father couldn’t keep me in that hospital for long.”

Owen swallowed and took a step back, out of Ianto’s reach. “While I can’t stop you from discharging yourself,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “you were shot less than twelve hours ago, Mr Smith. I suggest you…” He trailed off when Ianto took another step forward, running his hand down Owen’s arm, eliciting a shiver from the doctor.

Ianto opened his mouth, before he jerked his head to the left. It seemed to Owen as though he was listening to something, although the medic couldn’t hear anything over the traffic from the next street over. The street where Owen lived was a dead end and had no traffic passing through it.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Doctor Harper,” Ianto murmured, taking a step back before vanishing from Owen’s sight completely.

~

Owen rolled over with a start, pausing as he listened for any kind of noise that was out of the ordinary. He sighed when he heard nothing and rolled his eyes at himself. He was being an idiot; he was alone in the house and there was nothing to be afraid of.

After he had been followed by Ianto, Owen had been trying to figure out what had happened, but every reason he had thought of was every bit as ridiculous as the previous one.

Trying to sleep had proved useless and he had spent the past two hours, lying in bed as he tried to sleep while his mind played tricks with him.

He stiffened when he heard a creak coming from the doorway and he nervously lifted his eyes to see the bedroom door slowly opening. “Can’t sleep?” a terrifyingly familiar voice asked.

Owen swallowed nervously and rolled onto his back, pushing himself into an upright position as he watched the Doctor’s son enter the room. The light from the bedside lamp wasn’t much, but it was enough for Owen to see that he was wearing a look of amusement – mingled with something Owen was not going to think about – on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Owen demanded, hoping that his voice was shaking; that would be far too out of character for him. “How did you even get in here?”

Ianto chuckled, a sound that made Owen shiver; he tried to convince himself that the shiver was from fear, but he wasn’t sure he believed himself. “Don’t worry, I didn’t break your lock if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ianto whispered, moving to the foot of the bed.

Owen couldn’t help himself; he rolled his eyes. “It’s not the lock I’m worried about,” he muttered, never taking his eyes off Ianto.

The other man smirked and knelt on the bed, crawling towards Owen. “Trust me, there’s nothing you need to worry about,” he whispered, pushing Owen onto his back with strength he would have never thought possible to possess. 

The medic tried to push him away, but for some reason he couldn’t find the strength in him when Ianto pressed a kiss against his cheek. He licked a line across his jaw and whispered in his ear, “This will only hurt for a moment.”

Ianto’s lips moved away from his ear before Owen felt a searing pain in his neck. He tried to fight, but all he could do was paw at Ianto helplessly before everything went black.

~

A pain searing through Owen’s head woke him up and he let out a cry of pain as he rolled over onto his side, bringing a hand up and pressing his palm against his forehead.

“Yeah, I lied when I said it wouldn’t hurt,” a voice said from the foot of the bed Owen presumed he was lying on; it felt too comfortable to be the floor.

The doctor forced his eyes open, wincing at the pain he felt, and looked down to see a young man sitting on the end of the bed, watching him with a strange look on his face. “Who are you?” he demanded, hissing when he felt another painful jolt shoot through him.

The other man snorted with laughter and rolled his eyes. “Think about it for a moment; it’ll come back to you,” he answered, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the headboard.

Owen scowled and tried to remember if he had seen the man in front of him before. It was strange; there was a voice in the back of his mind that was telling him there was something eerily familiar about the man, but he couldn’t place his face.

As suddenly as Owen had woken up, realisation hit him and he quickly pushed himself into an upright position. The instant he moved, he knew it had been a bad decision as he lost the contents of his stomach over the side of the bed.

Ianto rolled his eyes and grimaced as he got to his feet – on the opposite side of the bed to where Owen had been ill. Out of the corner of his eye, Owen watched Ianto open the door and bark something to someone, although over the sound of his retching Owen couldn’t hear what was being said.

“Don’t worry, the nausea will pass shortly,” Ianto stated, closing the door and returning to his position on the bed. “Well,” he corrected himself, “I presume it’ll pass; I was dying when I was turned, so I can’t say for certain.”

Owen frowned at Ianto’s words. “Turned?” he asked when he was sure he could speak, leaning back against the headboard and staring down at the other man. 

Ianto nodded his head. “You’re a vampire now,” he informed the medic.

The doctor snorted with laughter and immediately regretted it when he felt nausea well up again. He paused, poised to vomit over the side of the bed, as he waited for the feeling to pass. Before he could speak, the door opened and a young blonde girl entered the room carrying a mop and a bucket of water.

Neither Ianto nor Owen spoke as she cleaned up the mess Owen had made. When she had finished, Ianto murmured, “Thank you, Rose,” inclining his head to her as she closed the door behind her.

When they were alone again, Ianto turned back to Owen who was still looking at Ianto with a disbelieving expression on his face. “I don’t believe you,” Owen said, trying to keep his voice even. “Vampires don’t exist.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so naive, Harper,” he instructed. He pushed away from the foot of the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Owen snapped with a look of alarm on his face.

The other man scoffed. “Not what you think,” he assured the medic. He continued unfastening the shirt and pulled it open, showing Owen his flawless chest and torso. “I got shot two days ago. Now, I’m not a doctor, but surely there should still be some kind of wound,” he said, running the tips of his finger over his chest where Owen could have sworn there had been a bullet wound when he’d treated Ianto.

Owen swallowed nervously and lifted his eyes from the non-existent wound on Ianto’s chest to his face. “You’re not lying,” he murmured. Ianto shook his head. “I really am a vampire,” he added, earning him a nod from the other man. “Why me?” he demanded, his mind trying to work out why Ianto would possibly think he would make a good vampire.

Ianto sighed and fastened his shirt silently. He didn’t speak until he sat down once more. “I know you overheard me and the Doctor talking,” he stated. “I had to protect us.”

The medic frowned deeply. “Protect yourselves?” he repeated; he couldn’t think of a reason why Ianto would feel that need when Owen had never been a threat.

“The Doctor has already been in London for a long time; no doubt there are already some hunters sharpening their swords as we speak,” Ianto muttered, his eyes darkening momentarily, before he glanced back at Owen. “Getting shot wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t been in the middle of the street when it happened.”

Ianto got to his feet and crossed to the window, grinning when he looked down at the garden beneath him. Although, what he was looking at, Owen couldn’t tell from his position on the bed. “When the Doctor wouldn’t break me out of hospital and, after you overheard our conversation, I knew that I had to do something to protect our secret.”

He pushed himself away from the window and glanced at his pocket watch. “I’ll let you come around a bit,” he stated, crossing the room and pulling open the door. “When you feel up to it, I’ll be in the library,” he added. “Turn left, right and go up the stairs; it’s the first door on the right.”

Owen nodded his head, watching silently as Ianto left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

As soon as he was alone, Owen sighed and leant his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes as he tried to work out what kind of hell he’d been dragged into.

Two hours later, Owen finally felt brave enough to get to his feet and venture out of the room, although his stomach did protest the movement a little.

Pushing the door open, Owen got the surprise of his life when he saw the corridor beyond the room. The room he had been in had been modestly decorated. It was nothing more than simple cream walls and a single bed in the centre, but the corridor and building beyond were nothing more than spectacular.

The walls of the corridor were a deep red, which would have made the whole area extremely dark if it hadn’t been for the large floor to ceiling windows on either end of the corridor. As it was, the building was so bright it actually made Owen’s eyes hurt a little as he stood in the sunlight. In the back of his mind, he briefly wondered why he wasn’t bursting into flames, but he pushed that thought aside for later.

He frowned as he tried to remember where Ianto had said the library was. Turning left and heading down the corridor before heading right, he found himself standing at the foot of one the grandest staircases Owen had ever seen.

Slowly he made his up the stairs, almost not wanting to stand on the ruby red carpet that adorned each step. Reaching out to steady himself on legs that were already wobbly to begin, Owen placed his hand on the shiny mahogany banister as he headed to the top.

Outside the first door to the right, Owen paused when he heard voices coming from inside; much like he had done at the hospital earlier that week – not that Owen could remember anything of the days that followed his eavesdropping session.

“You’re not still jealous, are you?” Ianto asked with a note of irritation in his voice.

“Of course I’m not,” a strange voice snapped in response, making Owen start a little. He had presumed that Ianto was talking to the Doctor, but the second voice had a clear American accent and was certainly not Owen’s boss.

There was an audible sigh. “Then what’s this about?” Ianto asked. “I know you, Jack; you wouldn’t just randomly decide to shag me in the middle of my library.”

Despite himself, Owen could feel colour rise in his cheeks as he realised the clear meaning in Ianto’s words; it was obvious these two were a couple and, while he wasn’t closed minded in any sense of the word, Owen found it a little strange to hear a same sex relationship discussed so openly when being gay wasn’t even legal yet; although, if Owen remembered correctly, there had been a proposition to decriminalise the act a few years before so who knew what would happen in the future.

When Jack spoke, Owen was certain he could hear a pout in the other man’s voice. “I’ve been in Paris for weeks; I missed you, Ianto.”

“That’s because you insist on going to that bloody air show every two years,” Ianto said and it sounded as though he’d muttered the words, although Owen could hear every word as clear as day. 

There was movement inside the room and Owen paused, ready to move if they were leaving. When the door didn’t open, he shifted closer so he could listen further. “I wouldn’t have to leave you behind if you weren’t so stubborn and would come with me once in a while,” Jack stated.

“No thank you,” Ianto replied immediately. “Those bloody planes have already been the death of you once; I have no idea why you would even want to entertain the idea of flying again, but I absolutely refuse to watch you plummet to your death again.”

Owen gasped and took a step away from the door when it opened to reveal Ianto who was looking at him with a smirk on his face.

“If you’re going to be a vampire, I suggest you improve those eaves dropping skills of yours,” he murmured, taking a step to the side and letting Owen into possibly the largest library he’d ever seen – and he’d been inside the British Library. “Owen Harper, meet Captain Jack Harkness; my mate.”

Owen glanced at Jack and swallowed nervously; the look on the older vampire’s face was nothing close to being friendly and Owen couldn’t help immediately feeling on edge. “Nice to meet you,” he said softly, wondering when he’d become such a nervous wreck; he was normally a pretty out going person.

Jack scowled. “Likewise,” he muttered, pushing away from the desk he was leaning against. “I’ll see you later,” he added to Ianto, brushing past them and stalking out of the room.

“What’s his problem?” Owen couldn’t help asking once Jack had left the room; clearly, his nervousness was only present when he was around people other than Ianto.

Ianto tore his gaze away from the door and focused on Owen. “He’s a drama queen,” he stated, placing a hand on Owen’s shoulder and steering him towards a large over-stuffed sofa near the fireplace. “I think we should probably discuss the finer points of being a vampire.”

The End


End file.
